


closer

by havisham



Series: havisham's SASO 2017 works collection [35]
Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Emotional Manipulation, Hate Sex, M/M, Senpai-Kouhai Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-04
Updated: 2017-07-04
Packaged: 2018-11-23 03:16:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11394246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/havisham/pseuds/havisham
Summary: be my bad boy, be my man /be my weekend lover /but don't be my friendHanamiya and Imayoshi are not friends.





	closer

**Author's Note:**

> Written for SASO 2017 Bonus Round 3: Fan Soundtracks for the [prompt](): Imahana, [Bad Boy - Cascada.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SoYLSOcgTeg)
> 
> See the fanart of this work by dw user fickle [here](http://sportsanime.dreamwidth.org/24968.html?thread=16101512#cmt16101512).

After the first few times, Imayoshi had entirely dispensed with social niceties. Instead, Makoto received a curt text the night before asking if he was available the next day, a Saturday. 

He sent Imayoshi back a picture of a dick. Not his -- someone else’s. Makoto had kept it for blackmail purposes before -- well, the accident, he supposed. It was that, officially. 

_\- As crude as expected from you, Makoto-kun._

_You’re the one who wants to slobber over my dick, Imayoshi-senpai._

_Turn on your camera. I want to see this dick you’re referring to._

Makoto grinned and went offline. It wouldn’t hurt Imayoshi to have a case of blue balls, after all. It would probably just improve his temper, excellent though it always was. 

*

It was a Saturday and there were a myriad of things he could be doing: scheming, planning, or implementing some plan or other. Getting his hair trimmed. Buying a leash for his sister’s new puppy. Visiting Kiyoshi’s hospital bed with flowers and a mallet. Instead, he presented himself at the Touou dorms and punched in the code he’d stolen from Imayoshi. As he expected, Imayoshi wasn’t in his room -- they had a late breakfast on Saturdays, and it only took a little finesse for Makoto to break into his room. 

Third years were supposed share rooms, but Imayoshi’s roommate had mysteriously fallen ill at the beginning of the year and had not been replaced. The room was spotlessly clean -- without the somewhat utilitarian bent of the furnishings, it would be hard to tell a teenage boy lived here. 

Makoto flipped up the mattress and found single dirty magazine. Imayoshi favored large cocks, but Makoto already knew that. The back of Imayoshi’s closet revealed nothing of note either. Logging into his computer took a few tries, but Makoto did it. As smart as Imayoshi tried to pretend he was, he still didn’t know better than to use publically available information that just about anyone motivated enough could work out. 

“Idiot,” Makoto muttered, as the computer opened up. If he’d had time and was bored enough, Makoto would have made sure to add a few disastrous errors in the lines of code Imayoshi was writing, or skew the argument on the essay he was writing. But he didn’t need to do that from _here._

There it was. All of Imayoshi’s social media profiles, laid out in front of him. Makoto could amuse himself for hours with this kind of material. 

*

Makoto was lounging in Imayoshi’s bed when he finally decided to show up. “Oh, you bad boy, what have you been doing?” Imayoshi said, his mouth pulled into a hideous grin. 

He sat up and stretched. “I was looking for blackmail material, naturally.” 

“You think I’d leave that somewhere you could reach it, Makoto-kun? You underestimate me.” 

“I guess, but the three teachers you just sent harassing messages to might feel differently,” Makoto said with a shrug. Imayoshi’s smile only grew wider. Damn it. He knew it had been too easy. 

Makoto sighed impatiently. No matter. “Do you want to fuck or not?” 

“Such a romantic,” Imayoshi said, stealing upon him. He grabbed a hold of Makoto’s chin and Makoto let his mouth fall open, his tongue licking at the bottom of his lip. “And so _desperate_ too. I’m embarrassed for you.” 

“I hate you, I always have,” Makoto said and Imayoshi leaned down to kiss him. 

“You only learned what I taught you.” 

*

Dormitory walls were notoriously thin, but Makoto didn’t even attempt to keep his voice down. After all, he didn’t live here. He didn’t care if Imayoshi got awkward looks tomorrow, but then again, apparently neither did Imayoshi, since he did nothing to stop him. 

Finally, sweaty and hoarse, Makoto pulled away and kicked at Imayoshi’s side. Imayoshi groaned, but didn’t move. He looked different without his glasses or his ever-present grin. His expression was slack, though the slant of his face was as fox-like as ever. 

“So you’re planning on fucking that pathetic little shooting guard this year? He’s weak enough to be manipulated, I guess.” 

“You really have a corrupt mind, Makoto-kun. Sakurai-kun is little more than a child.” 

“I was younger.” 

Imayoshi opened his eyes and looked at him. “Ah.” 

“Ah? What?” 

“So you blame me for … the thing that you are, isn’t that right? I’m not saying I’m wholly innocent here, but you were warped long before I met you.” 

“That’s the problem with you,” Makoto said, moving into Imayoshi’s space again. “You feel guilty. You want to defend yourself. You’re so _weak_ , Imayoshi-senpai, how can you live with yourself?” 

He leaned down and kissed Imayoshi, biting against his lip. Imayoshi sighed against his mouth and didn’t move. Makoto continued. “I never feel like that. Why should I? I only do what others would if they weren’t cowardly sacks of shit.” 

“Ah, Makoto,” Imayoshi said, his voice soft with pity. “You don’t even realize what you’re missing, do you?” 

“Shut up,” Makoto snapped. Stupid superior Imayoshi, superior without even _earning_ it, how dare he -- “Are you recovered? I need to go home soon.” 

Imayoshi spread out his arms. “By all means. Climb aboard.” 

*

Makoto ran into that little shooting guard on his way out of the dorms. “Boo!” he said as he passed. 

The boy jumped, a scream cut off in mid-stream. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” 

Rolling his eyes, Makoto kept going. Imayoshi was a pain in the ass and much dumber than he imagined himself to be, but he had to admit -- once Imayoshi was gone, it would be a challenge to replace him.


End file.
